Budapest
by slr689
Summary: Natasha Romanov, a dangerous Russian assassin, sent to take out an alleged money transfer. Clint Barton, bow wielding SHIELD agent, sent to kill whoever comes to stop the fake money transfer. What happens when they meet? What happens when Natasha is offered a better life, not as Drakov's Daughter, but as an American SHIELD agent? What happened in Budapest?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**

Natasha: I guess you could say everything was a mess when it came to Russian and American relationships. I remember hearing of a fight between the two the day I was called into the KGB leader's office.

The office was dark and cold, meant to intimidate the most intimidating. I wasn't afraid of it. I was only afraid of the snake that lived under the rock.

They called him "Drug D'yavola" or "Devil's Friend". His real name was Drakov. He was scary. It was him and him only who had pulled me from my home at the age of 14 to be trained in the Red Room academy,then made me one of his personal assassins. Many had given me the KGB nickname of "Drakov's daughter" because I was the youngest ever brought in, along with the most respected.

"Natalia," he said when I came in, "Come in."

I stood across from him. He studied his fingernails, not granting me another glance.

"The American's have a mission set. They plan to transfer millions of Russian Dollars into their accounts, stealing it."

"How would they get the money?" I asked.

"Russian leak. But the only problem is we do not have the time to find this leak. I take it you could take this mission?" he said, giving me a look, "After all, you are the notorious Black Widow."

"Yes sir, I am always ready for a mission," I said.

"That's what I thought," he said, "Pack your sniper rifle, my beautiful Natalia. Kill both the Russian and the American. I want them both dead and untraceable to whichever country it is. I trust you can handle that."

"Yes sir," I said.

"You will be in Budapest at 11:30 tomorrow morning," Drakov said. I turned to leave.

"Did I say I was finished?" he asked.

I turned back to him. "My apologies sir," I said.

"Good little Romanova," he said, "I would hate to think our training was…" he paused, "Wearing off."

I shivered as I thought of what he defined as training. Most other countries would define it as torture. "Pack a pretty dress, my pretty little Natalia. There is a ball going on there. You'll meet your target there." I nodded. "And of course, if you know what's good for you, you'll send me a picture of you in your pretty dress." I nodded again. I stood perfectly still. That was the reason Drakov scared me.

"Yes sir," I said.

"I'll send you the coordinates. And the exchange should happen around 1 am. Get them before then. Enjoy your trip, my little Natalia."

Clint: I walked into Fury's office. "At ease Barton," he said, not even looking at me. I relaxed my stance.

Fury was exactly what you'd expect the Director of a secret organization like SHIELD to be like. His office was similar to his personality. Bland. White walls. Grey desk. No pictures. Impersonal.

"You have a mission," Fury informed me, "The Russian's have become a problem. There's a girl. A Natasha Romanoff. She's been given a diluted version of Super Soldier Serum."

"You would like me to bring her in sir?" I asked.

"No Barton," Fury said, "I'm asking you to take her out. She is dangerous. We want to eliminate the threat to the United States. You'll meet her at the a Gala. Sadly, all intel we have on her appearance has disappeared. All we have is that she has red hair." Red hair. That should be easy enough to find. Unless she's actually a good spy and changes the conspicuous hair tone.

He handed me a boarding pass for the airlines. "Look sharp Barton. Find the girl, take her out. If the Gala doesn't work, try above the Danube Promenade. That is where the exchange is supposed to happen," he said. I nodded, leaving his office.


	2. Chapter 2

p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4ddf2f1f6ced9b1dfd2ee6c0e6377463"Natasha: I arrived at my hotel, tipping the bellboy handsomely. The room was lavish, a part of my pay I had asked for in the beginning . /p  
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p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="6b6f5e52016707bca71533a4ede15265" "Sorry," I said, "I'm so..." As I started looking at her, my words faded off. She was in a black bikini, a towel wrapped around her waist. She exposed perfect skin, a creamy tone in color. Her lips were big and curvy. Her eyes were a deep green, and cat like. Her hair was red and swept into a messy bun, red ringlettes falling from it./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e59ca86972d1d16fb91e7bbcc7e7701f" "Uh, hi," I said stupidly./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="0c9b3a9f979a90820a68f82ebd996b4a" "Hi," she said, smiling sideways at me. She was beautiful./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="586d500a2fbccc64b459435613a6a968" "Uh, sorry," I said again, not sure what to say next./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="98aa1d4d6edb4b2ad7cdaa2513246a81" "It's not problem," she said. Her voice was American. Smooth. "So uh, is there a pool here?" I asked, trying to make conversation./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9246b8b343b8b2f32db9e62751c3cf26" "No, I just like walking around in bikinis in hotel lobbies," she said. It took me a moment too long to get it. When she noticed she laughed quietly. It was cute./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="4832dc0e663b0ba027eb2acc65273a60" "Anyway, I'll let you get back to that," I said. Mission my mind reminded me. And I left, without getting the beautiful woman's name./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3d39626ff404e05914b92e96cf6a7a78"span style="box-sizing: border-box;" /spanNatasha: He was cute. But I chose not to dwell. I had too much to worry about to think of a guy./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="765b118093a9bec70e35f1d7268ea85f" I went down to the pool and started going over the intel. The Gala would be at this hotel, which was a bit much I had to admit. It was beautiful though./p  
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	3. Chapter 3

Natasha: My entire body turned, ready to kill, that is until my instincts kicked out and I remembered I wasn't afraid of the voice. The Winter Soldier stood, smiling.

"Wint!" I said in surprised. He didn't know his real name, and I didn't have the guts to get it. I walked over to him, hugging him tight to me. "It's been so long!" I said happily.

"I'm sorry it has been, my beautiful Natalia," Wint said, "I didn't want to risk seeing you. Not after what happened last time."

The last time, we had been caught. He had been trained with me. We had feelings for each other. Then he had been shipped off the the United States, to work as a hit man, for a man with no name, but an alliance to Russia. We continued to find each other. Until we got caught. The upside to being "Drakov's Daughter " was I was not the one who was punished. He had been the one to take the blow. I had been told they beat him until he was put on life support so he could breath. We hadn't ever ended things, despite that being over a year ago.

He seemed to be doing well now. I looked around. Then I pressed my lips to his, pulling him close. He seemed shocked, almost like he didn't know what to do because of the time we had been apart . When I parted from him, we both smiled, which I knew had to be hard for him, having been tortured over and over.

"Natalia," he said, playfully, "You really did miss me."

"How are you?" I asked, "Did they do anything to you?"

"They beat me," he said, "I couldn't breath when they finished with me." I shook my head.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"It's not your fault, Natalia," Wint said, "I promise you I don't blame you."

"How did you know I would be here?" I asked, curiously.

"I was keeping watch on the hotel, and then I saw you," Wint said.

"What's your mission?" I asked him.

"Natalia, are you interrogating me?" he asked, seeming almost upset.

"No, I just-" I stopped. I shook my head, "I'm just curious if we are on the same mission."

"I'm just on a clean up. A man who posed a threat to the man I work for," Wint said, shrugging. I nodded. I kissed him again.

"Are we going to get caught?" I asked.

"I sure hope not," he said, holding me, his cold metal arm pressing in, the cold coming in through my shirt. His hair was long. It hung down in his eyes, almost chin length. I kissed him again.

"How long do you have here?" I asked, hoping the answer was a few days.

"As soon as my mission finishes I have to go," he said.

"A few days?" I asked.

"You have to go don't you?" Wint asked, sadness in his voice. I shrugged.

"Sooner than later," I said.

"I'll try to be here when you get done," he whispered, kissing my forehead, "But you can't take too long. They will kill me if I take too long. Or worse." The idea that anything they could do to him was worth than death made me shutter. I got back down on the ground, putting together my gun, trying to just concentrate on the parts of it. I heard him chuckle.

"You're cute when you do that," he said. A moment later I finished, turned around, and he was gone. The elusive Winter Soldier.


	4. Chapter 4

Natasha: I was back in my room, getting dressed into a dazzling outfit, sure to bring out any secrets anyone may have. The dress was black, falling just below my ankles, with a slit doing up and showing off my leg. It fit tight in the top and flowing in the bottom. I had bought a pair of leather pumps to go with it . I went down to the party, ready to kill.

Clint: I hate monkey suits. Good thing the woman love monkey suits.

I stood off to the side, watching people dance and talk. I always hated these things. Rich stood around and just talked about being rich. They compared yacht clubs and charities they donated too and Rolex watches. It was totally disgusting.

There were a few girls with red hair. One was the Prime Minister of England's daughter, another a model from Australia, who was being escorted by her middle aged billionaire boyfriend, and a middle aged French Ambassador.

I had danced with both the Prime Minister's daughter and the model by the time I saw her.

She was dressed in a black dress, her hair hair cascaded down onto her shoulders, part of her hair in a knot on the top of her head. Red hair. How had I not thought of it. But I decided not to jump to conclusions. I walked up to her. "Hi," I said, smiling.

"Hi," she said, smiling back, "Do I know you?"

"Earlier, in, actually," I laughed, "here."

"Oh right," she said, "The guy who thought I actually walk around in my bikini." She laughed.

"In my defense, my joke sensor always shuts off when I'm around half naked beautiful women," I said smiling.

"Wow," she said.

"What?" I asked.

"That was really smooth," she laughed.

"Good," I said, "I try."

I held out my hand for her to dance. "Dance with me," I said.

"Never mind," she said, "That was smoother." She took my hand and we made our way to the dancefloor.

Natasha: "So does the beautiful woman have a name," the guy said, pulling me close and dancing with me. I was scanning the room for people who might be American. People who didn't fit in. Not rich men. Or maybe posing as rich men.

"Natalie," I answered, "How about you?"

"James," he said, "So does Natalie have a story?"

Okay, time to not as much think of find the guy who was the worm and time to focus on what was going on with me.

"Well there's not much to tell," I laughed.

Clint: This girl was getting to be more and more my girl. "I'm curious," I said.

"Okay," Natalie said, "I grew up dirt poor. Then my family died in a car crash and I moved in with my grandparents. My grandparents were high ups in the oil industry in Italy. So when they died I sold the land I inherited. Then took the money and now I live my life rich with no strings attached."

I nodded, "So how does a girl like you get into a party like this."

She smirked, "I have my connections."

I smiled, because at that moment I knew she was the Russian Spy.

That was until a gunshot rang out from upstairs.

Natasha: Everyone ducked and screamed, and a Russian Diplomat fell. My first thought was to chase down the man who had killed him, thinking the obvious. But then I looked up to see the shooter, but he was gone, and I caught a quick glance at a leather jacket walking out a door, a slight glimmer off his arm. Wint.

I grabbed James' hand, pulling him along.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"We're leaving. Someone sort of just got shot," I said, adding an ounce of panic to my voice.

Clint: I knew I should drop cover and look for the shooter, but for some reason I didn't. She grabbed my hand pulling me towards the exit. It was clogged with continued to pull me. "Come on, I know another exit."

She pulled me towards a door, pushing it open with her elbow. I scanned the roofs above, happy I didn't see anyone, due to the fact then I would have to leave Natalie to chase him. Why? I loved my job.

She looked back at me, her gaze examining my glace at the roof tops. "The coast is clear," I said.

"I know," she said, still not dropping the measuring look in her gaze. Then she cracked a small smirk, "What would you have done if the coast wasn't clear?"

"Oh you know," I said, adding a joking punch to my voice, "Ran at him, maybe beat him to the ground. Maybe shot a few arrows in him."

"Arrows?" Natalie asked, "Seems a little stone age for 2005 doesn't it?"

"Hey, I could make an arrow look tough," I said.

"Sure you could," Natalie said, getting close to me, "Robin Hood?"

"Whenever I say that my weapon of choice would be a bow and arrow, I alway get that," I said.

"Oh," Natalie said, pretending to take offense by my words, "What about Legolas?"

"Heard it."

"Cupid."

"Yep,"

"Peter Pan?"

"Does he really use a bow and arrow, or is he more that faith, love, and pixie dust crap?" I asked Natalie. She giggled. She was so cute. She bit her lip, and I got closer to her.

"You know," I whispered in her ear, "I could kiss you right now."

"Oh really?" she whispered back. I turned my face, kissing her. It was sweet, and blended perfectly.

A moment later she pulled away. "What time is it?" she asked.

"Uh, I don't know," I said, checking my watch, still a little dazed, "12:50 why?" It was then I remembered where I had to be in 10 minutes.

"I, uh, have to go," Natalie said.

I knew I had messed up my mission enough, so I let her go.

Natasha: I changed into my cat suit in a matter of 3 minutes flat, and was in front of my sniper rifle with 5 minutes to spare. I glanced through my scope, making sure it was calibrated. I looked around at my surroundings. I looked down at the still blanc ground. Then I looked up at the surrounding windows.

Clint: I was in the room, looking down on where the decoy event would take place. Then I started looking around the surrounding rooms. That's when I saw her. Instead of the black dress she had been wearing, it was a black leather cat suit. But her red curls hung down.

Natalie.

She was the Russian.

Natasha: I looked through my scope amazed. It was James. Behind a bow.

He was American.

Before I could react, an arrow flew at me. The shock that was flooding through me turned my reaction time for the first and only time in my career. I looked down as the arrow stuck in my thigh.

"You missed," I muttered. Then the world went black.


	5. Chapter 5

Natasha: The first thing I noticed when I woke up was that I was sitting up. Then I noticed my hands were zip tied behind my back. And James was sitting in a chair, polishing an arrow.

"You missed," I muttered.

"Nope," James said.

"It went in my thigh idiot," I said.

"I don't miss. If I meant to kill you, you'd be dead," James said.

"How very James Bond," I muttered bitterly.

"You were given false intel," he said, looking at me for the first time.

"I figured that out Sherlock," I said, "Most people don't have random snipers."

"I have to say I'm surprised," James said, "Is Natalie your real name. I'm figuring its not."

"What kind of spy would I be if I left my name?" I asked.

"So what is your name. I mean, I've heard the code name, Black Widow," he said.

"You first," I muttered.

"Clint Barton," he said, "Or Hawkeye, the Hawk, whatever."

"Hawkeye," I said, "You were really hoping I heard that stupid name weren't you."

"Maybe a little, but its not exactly bringing down my spirits," Clint said, "What about you?"

"Natasha Alianovna Romanov," I told him, "And you already know my code, so I'm not going to bother to introduce it."

"Natasha," Clint said, as if he was trying it on, "Not far from Natalie."

"Duh," I said, "Don't stray to far from the truth, just border it at all times."

"Sorry," Clint said, "I was trained in the US, where they tell us to tell the truth as often as possible."

"Look where it got you," I said.

That's when I kicked up my legs, pulling the leg off the bed and grabbing it and attempting to hit Clint over the head with it. He grabbed in and pulled in from my hands. I kicked low, Clint falling to his feet and I ran.

I was a few doors down the hall by the term I heard footsteps run into the hall. A moment later I felt a sharp pain in my knee, my whole leg buckling, and I fell, my world going black for a second time.

I awoke again, tied to the other side of the bed, my feet tied as well. I rolled my eyes.

"Will you quit it with the stupid arrows and fight fair?!"

"You just gave Drakov a bill for a bed," Clint said.

"Dang," I muttered, pretending to care.

"I got to do a little research while you were out this time. I have to admit, I'm impressed. There's not much info on you," Clint said, smirking, "In fact, all we have is 'presumed' stuff. We don't really know its you."

"I'm a good spy," I muttered.

"Drakov's Daughter?" Clint asked, "Kind of a catchy name."

"Never call me that!" I said through gritted teeth, "I am not his daughter, its a stupid name."

"Why?" Clint asked.

"Because-" I stopped, smiling, "Interrogating me. Nice. I almost didn't catch it." Clint just stared at me.

"The KGB has got you trained pretty good," Clint said after a moment.

"Not as good as SHIELD's got you," I said.

"What?" Clint asked, obviously surprised, but his eyes showing a definite amount of impression, "What's SHIELD."

"You just told me," I said, "You were surprised I knew, but you were impressed. Therefore, it secret. The KGB has had their eye on SHIELD for 6 years now. I knew you weren't FBI because the FBI wouldn't send in one guy. You're not CIA because CIA wouldn't train you in bow. You aren't from a Military Investigative Branch because the KGB has never assigned me to kill a military man due to the fact we have no interest in them. The fact that they only sent in one of you points towards secret organization. SHIELD was the most popular fighter of the KGB of our options."

"So you can do math," Clint muttered. He smiled. "So what would Drakov think of this, you being held captive and all."

"The job comes with risks. I'm certain he hasn't noticed anything is off yet," I said with a malicious smirk.

"Well, you're going to start giving me answers, or he's going to find out," Clint said, turning his screen. There was an email written up.

 _Drakov,_

 _They call me Hawkeye. I work for SHIELD, an American organization you might have heard of. We have Black Widow. She is giving us intel and has been taken captive so she will continue to do so. Good luck finding us._

 _Hawkeye._

"He'll never buy that I'm giving you secrets," I muttered. But my stomach turned.

"Then he won't care if I hit send," Hawkeye said, his finger over the key to send.

"Even if I give you secrets you can't trust anything I say," I said.

"I think you'll find the will. Otherwise, if we set you free, and you gave us false intel, we'll hunt you down and kill you."

"If you find me," I said, raising an eyebrow.

"I think you don't want me to send this email not because you think Drakov will kill you, but instead, he'll do something worse," Clint said, "You're afraid of him."

"If you knew my story, you would be too," I said, "He's powerful."

"More powerful than the girl he gave Super Soldier serum?" Clint asked.

"Super soldier serum?" I asked, confused. Clint blinked a few times, then had a look of realization. He put the computer down.

"He never told you the stuff he did to you," Clint muttered.

"He gave me all I needed to know. I was strong, able to do the jobs. I didn't need to know anymore," I said. But his words brought back memories.

Pain. Lots of pain. Surgery after surgery, no recovery time in between.

Alexi.

"Hello?" Clint asked, waving his hand in front of my face.

"Sorry," I said, "Just trying to figure out if these are the cheap zip ties or not." An obvious lie, but Clint smiled.

"They're the one's SHIELD purchase princess, meant to tie down anything that may come our way," Clint said, "What do you know about what they did to you?"

"Why does it matter. Obviously I don't have what you're after anymore," I said.

Clint sighed.

"You know," he said after a moment, "I really did like you." He pulled out a black touch screen. "I have to make a phone call. I'll be right outside the door. Don't do anything stupid."

I shrugged, which was the extent of movement I could do. He stepped outside. And instantly, I started trying to find a way out.


	6. Chapter 6

Clint: I stood outside the door, leaving it open just a crack so I could hear what was going on in there. I dialled Fury, who answered in a half ring, "Barton, report."

"She says she doesn't know anything," I said, "And frankly, sir, I believe her."

"Barton, when I said your mission was to take her out, I didn't mean go on a date with her and have I nice dinner. I meant kill her," Fury said.

"Sir, I believe she could be a good source on some Russian Intel," I said.

"She's dangerous Barton, that's why I said kill remember," Fury said, "Trained by the Russian. Drakeov. She could lie to the best lie detectors of all time and they couldn't tell."

"Sir, I believe she's telling the truth. I believe she's deep enough in that even her lies could reveal secrets," I said.

"Unless, she's really as good as all our intel says she is," Fury said.

"Sir, I'm going to see what intel I can extract. The first sense of trouble, I'll terminate," I said.

"Barton, one of these days you're going to be the death of me," Fury sighed.

"I haven't yet sir," I said, before hanging up.

I walked back into the room, amazed Natasha was still tied up. "Drakeov, he scares you?" I asked.

"He's scared everyone, not just me," she said, a note of finality in her voice.

"Yes, but he scares you," I said.

"Yeah, doesn't your boss scare you?" she asked.

"Why? Why does Drakeov scare you?" I asked.

"He's intimidating, same reason your boss scares you," Natasha said.

"I never told you I was afraid of my boss," I pointed out. Not that she was wrong.

"You ignored my question. Isn't that just as good?" Natasha asked.

"My boss doesn't intimidate me," I said.

"He leads a secret organization in the US. If he doesn't intimidate you, then its something else," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"That's classified," I muttered.

"So your boss is secretive. He lives in a web full of lies, therefore you know he doesn't trust you, and you can't ever trust him," Natasha insinuated. I did a double take. How did she do that?

"You're interrogating me," I realized.

"You gave me a ton, thank you," she said with a crooked smile.

"You're turn," I said, fingering a specific arrowhead.

"Trying to inspire fear?" Natasha asked, obviously not pleased.

"This arrow has the ability to cause extremely painful muscle contractions," I said. I was lying of course. That would be sick, but the tech didn't exist except for in the Stark Arsenal. But she didn't need to know that.

"First," she said, "That's a normal arrow. You got that sideways smile you get when you think you're telling a good lie. And second, inspiring fear isn't going to work because my boss is a sociopath with a big fancy desk with millions of government dollars at his disposal."

I looked at her sideways, "You're giving me what I want?"

"Yep," she said.

"So I'm assuming there is one of two options. A: you're lying to me in hopes I'll go on a wild goose chase, leaving you unattended. B: You have a different plan in mind," I said cautiously.

She laughed, "Nice job Sherlock. It's either something, or its something else."

"So which of my stupid ideas is it?" I asked.

"The ladder," she said, "Maybe I'm telling you the truth because I want you to sympathize with me and help me get out of Russia, permanently. I give you what you want , and eventually, you give me what I want."

"You realize I have to trust you for that to happen, right?" I asked.

"Maybe," she said, giving me the sideways smile again. That was so cute- No! Bad Barton!

"I wish I could trust you," I said, "But since you have yet to tell me something true..."

"I told you my boss is an unstoppable sociopath. I told you I want out," she said.

"No," I said, "Here's your deal , tell me something real and I'll untie your hands. Not your feet, but at least you'll get rid of that ache in your wrists."

"Oh but there's still so much a girl can do with her hands," Natasha said. I had to look away so I didn't laugh. I waited.

"Fine!" Natasha said, "Just let me think of something."

"Shouldn't take much time," I told her, "We'd hate for me to think you're lying."

"I was a ballerina," she spatted out.

"You honestly expect me to believe that?" I asked, kind of hurt that she had gone to so little work.

"It's true. I was practicing to be in the Russian Ballet when..." she trailed off staring into space.

Natasha: I choked on the words. My parents died. When my world changed.

"What?" Clint asked, agitated.

"Nothing," I said, shaking my head.

"No, you're giving me more than that or-"

"Fine," I said, "When my parents died."

"How'd they die?" Clint asked.

"Icy road," I said, "I can't think well with all this blood rushing it my hands."

Clint rolled his eyes, taking a key and cutting the zip ties off my hands. I wiggled my pink and swollen fingers.

"They were hit from behind and spun out. Later I discovered it hadn't been just that. It had been planned," I said.

"By who?" Clint asked.

"That," I said, "would require another another reward."

"I see the game you're playing. Should I get you tied up again and see how big your mouth is then?" Clint asked.

"Did it ever cross your mind, American, that I was helping you out by not telling you things?" I asked, "Because there is a reason I don't tell people things about me."

"I'll let you order food if you tell me who ran your parents off the road," Clint said, "I'm not setting your feet free, if that's what you think. You can bet your life on that."

"I wasn't planning on betting," I said.

"Listen if you don't take this deal you starve," Clint said, "That's it."

"I guess I'll take the ladder again," I said.

Later, as the night went on, I decided that wasn't such a good idea. I was already going on my second day without food. By the time the sun went down, all I could think about was food and sleep. Once again, I chose the ladder. .


	7. Chapter 7

Natasha: The next morning I awoke with actual hunger pains. "If you don't give me food, I'll die and you won't get anymore of the answers you need," I told Clint.

"Well, since my original mission was to kill you, I guess either way is a win win," Clint said. He had been ordered to kill me? And I was still alive? I had to admit I was grateful, but why?

"Fine," I muttered, "It was the KGB who ran my parents off the road." Clint threw a menu at me.

"Why would you say that?" Clint asked.

"Two weeks before my parents died was the first time. I felt someone watching me, as I walked to and from the dance studio. I brushed it off as paranoia and didn't say anything. But it kept coming. After a few days it started coming more often, even when I was at school and in the middle of closed dance rehearsal. So I told my parents. They believed me, and advised me on things to do. That is until they were killed the next night," I said. Fear rumbled through my veins as I told the story. I had never told anyone this. I continued, "I continued to feel it for almost two months. I never even told Alexi though for fear what happened to my parents would happen to him. And I'll have a ham and cheese omelette please."

"Alexi?" Clint asked. I smiled.

"He was, as you American say, my kid brother," I said, "I had just turned 15, him 10, when we were approached by a man. He explained how he was 'familiar with my situation' and he said he wanted to help. Instantly I knew this was the man. My stalker so to speak. And I knew if I said no, then my brother would died. So, Alexi and I were recruited."

"Recruited?" Clint asked.

"To the Orphanage. They worked directly with the KGB, training kids," I said, picturing its red matted walls and floors, the creamy tone of the ceiling. Just picturing it made me feel sick.

A knock came on the door, pulling me back to reality, and Clint looked first through the peep hole, then opened it just a crack to grab the food, only enough so no one could see me.

I didn't stay back in reality of course. A reel of flashes ran through my mind. Memories.

"You're perfect, little Romanov. Deadly. A Black Widow." a Russian accent condescending voice said.

"NO! ALEXI!" I heard myself scream.

"We'll make you better," the final voice, one I knew too well, said.

"Alright," Clint said, putting the hot omelette on my lap. I started into it. "I was trained for a year, not a great year, before I had my 'Test'. The KGB would come in and give people jobs, provided they past the test."

"What was the test?" Clint asked.

"It varies, depending on where your strengths fall," I said.

"What was yours?" Clint asked. As I thought about it, I felt sick.

"A fellow dancer, Viktoria, was told to stand in front of a door. My first mission was to interrogate her, about what was behind the door. When she came up empty I was instructed to beat her up. And I did. Finally, they instructed me to put a bullet through her head. So I did," I said, using everything I could to not start crying. And that wasn't the worst part of my story.

Clint could see my pain. I couldn't find the will to eat. A tragedy really. Clint looked carefully at me, then sighed, cutting my legs free. I just sat there. One part of me told me to run. Another told me to kill Clint and run back to Drakeov. One part told me I had worked too hard for his trust.

The last part really enjoyed being stuck here with Clint. Maybe it was because he had been my plaything for the last 36 hours. Maybe it was the fact he was the only man I had ever told my whole story. Maybe it was just borderline Stockholm's Syndrome. Anyway, I liked being with him. So I stayed.

"If you keep giving me info like that, we'll talk to my superiors about getting you out of Russia," Clint said.

"Thank you," I said.


	8. Chapter 8

p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;"Clint: I sat with Natasha for a little while, just sitting. Telling her story had shaken her up a bit. If she was acting, it was pretty good. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;"Later were were talking a little more. "Okay so explain to me how a girl who loved doing ballet ends up loving being an assassin." /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""First, I'm not an assassin, I am a spy," Natasha said, "Second, what makes you think I love what I do." /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""You can hate Drakeov all you want, but you can't hide the fact that you do, you love what you do," I said. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""How athletic do you think a ballerina is?" she asked. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""Athletic. Now as athletic as you are now, but definitely good," I said. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""Wrong," she said, "Being a ballerina takes skill and a lot of effort. I like the fact that, because of my past as a ballerina, this is all easy. I like the fact that I'm of use, and good at what I do. I like the fact that I do this best." /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""Hm," I said. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""I think its your turn though," she said, putting her elbows on her knees and propping her head in her hands, "Tell me your story." /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""What so you can give it to Drakeov. I don't think so," I said, laughing. /p  
p class="" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""Come on. You would bet money at this point that I wouldn't tell Drakeov, so what do you have to loose?" /p  
p class="" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""Fine," I muttered, "I too happen to be an orphan. I was in and out of this idiotic foster home. Unlike your story though, I was the younger sibling. My bother, took care of me. But the foster home obviously wasn't working. So my brother got this idea. Join the circus, travel the world, make money. So, we did." /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""You're a carnie?" Natasha asked, raising a judging eyebrow. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""You're a ballerina?" I asked, giving her the same look, "Listen, you don't have to know where this ends." /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""Fine fine, I'll shut up," she said, raising her hands in surrender. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""Anyway, we did. That's where I was trained to use my bow. I was trained by my brother, who ended up being known as Trickshot, and this guy known only by the name Swordsman. I got good. Really good. People would come, just to see me. I had the time of my life." /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""So how'd you end up in SHIELD?" Natasha asked, impatiently. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""I'm getting there. I sat through your whole sob story," I said. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;"Natasha made a motion of ziping her lips. I continued, "Anyway, eventually it wasn't enough for me. So my brother and I left. I decided I wanted to fight crime. I tried, and was actually accused of being a thief. That's when Fury found me. He said I had potential. So he hired me." /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""What about your brother?" Natasha asked, quietly. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""Fury didn't have a need for him. First it was back in the Circus. He never wanted to leave. But then he found a new calling," I said, looking down, "He met this idiot. Said he'd pay him a ton of dough, I mean a lot, to use his skills with an arrow. So my brother did it. He ended up in a Mercenary Group, or maybe he started it. I haven't talked to him since I joined SHIELD, but he's been on the radar a ton lately. He'll do anything for good enough pay." /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""Sorry," Natasha said. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;"I shook my head, "Whatever. He made his decision, I made mine." /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""So you don't talk," she asked. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""Nope," I said, "Once I tried to get ahold of him. He was in the wind though. According to what I've heard he still does Circus. I just wish I could find him. Talk to him. Get him to talk to SHIELD."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""Not everyone uses their powers for good," Natasha said, "Maybe we could work together, when this whole thing is over, and I drop Drakeov, to find him."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""I wouldn't ask you to do that. We have duties and missions. I don't think its really practical," I said./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""It doesn't have to be practical for it to feel good. And after all, you saved my life. Doing that would be the least I could do," Natasha said, smiling. I smiled./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""You know, you can drop the American accent," I said, realizing her voice was still using the accent./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""Actually, I can't. When they taught me to speak English, they taught me to only speak it with an American Accent or an English Accent," Natasha said./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""Hm," I said, then laughed a little to myself. She smiled again. "You have no idea how much I wish you weren't the KGB agent."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""What would be different if I weren't?" Natasha asked./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""Everything. I wouldn't question everything I say to you. I would ask you out, I'd..." I trailed off./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""You'd?"Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow. I couldn't do it anymore./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;""I'd do this," I said, suddenly leaning forward, pressing my lips to hers. And, much to my surprise, she kissed me back./p 


	9. Chapter 9

Natasha: We didn't say anything for a few moments. A moment later, Clint shook his head. "We should get out of this stupid room," Clint said.

"Seriously?" I asked, a little amazed, "I thought you didn't trust me."

"I don't," Clint said, "But if I'm ever going to, then I have to see if you run. Let's go." He held out his hand for me to take, and I did.

We stopped by my room to grab me soe clothes other than the cat suit. "Can you stay out here?"I asked.

"Depends, are you going to make a break for it?" Clint asked, folding his arms.

"No. Remember, I lose out on something if I do," I said. Clint moved across the hall from the door.

"I'll be here," Clint said, cross his arms. I nodded, grabbing the key from my pocket, opening my door.

I walked over to my open suit case, pulling out a pair of jeans and a black tee shirt. "So, I would have offered to help you out, but you seem to have it covered," a voice said behind me. I spun around, seeing Wint smiling behind me.

"Yeah," I said, almost bummed to see him. I knew I should have been happy, but I wasn't. "Sort of,"

"What do you mean sort of?" Wint asked, touching my arm.

"He's outside the door," I said, "We're going for a bit of sight seeing, while I give him false intel," I said, lying.

"Anything I can do?" Wint asked.

I shook my head, before kissing him quickly, "I can handle this Wint."

"Are you sure Natalia?" Wint asked, raising an eyebrow, "We should get you home to Drakeov quickly, so he doesn't suspect."

"I also need the American's not to suspect. I can work Drakeov. I can't work the Americans as well. You know best of all how they are Wint."

Wint's eyes dropped. He pursed his lips, nodding. "And you'll tell me if he, you know, hurts you or anything?"

"I can handle myself," I said, "You know that."

"Of course," Wint said, kissing me again. I had to applaud myself on the act I was as I was kissing Wint, I caught a glimspe of just how dangerous this game was becomeing. I was starting to remember one fact. It scared me.

Drakeov was never going to let me go. No matter how hard I begged. He would kill everything, everyone, that ever mattered to me, and never let me go. I had always felt trapped, but in that kiss, I knew just how trapped I really was.

"Are you alright?" Wint asked , pulling away.

"Of course," I said with a sideways smile, "Just thinking."

I kissed Wint one last time, "Now shew. I have to get dressed."

Wint smiled, then went toward the window, leaving. I got changed fast.

"That took a while," Clint said when I appeared again.

"You Americans," I teased, "You have such patience issues."

As Clint objected to my claime, my mind wasn't on him. As I looked over my shouler in the Lobby, I saw a long haired man in a leather jacket, and he winked at me. My mind wasn't on that either.

My mind was on Drakeov. And how if I was going to be an American, I would have to kill him.


	10. Chapter 10

p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="b00874afbd0e0a4da8ddfc992892cf65"Clint: Natasha seemed shaken up after leaving her room. I decided not to question it. She was still here, wasn't she./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ae7e3a67ee9d5de458a55715dfe2c046"We sat down at a cafe, I ordered a coffee, she ordered a slice of cinnamon toast, with a cappacino./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c5f1696347bdd3781d1c2e446f04ffd9""So," I said, "You didn't run away Natalia."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3ac9311634508d5d0613b3e527483415""What did you just call me?" she asked./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3df8801109776300a0255cf7a70d08bb""Natalia. Sorry, I thought it was a nickname for Natasha. I thought I heard it once before. Never mind," I said, a little flustered./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3fd8655342702e7d768e498c0f2b9d5b""No, it is a nickname," Natasha said, "Its just..." She shook her head, staring into her coffee as though it possessed the words she wanted to say. "It's just wierd, to hear you say it. Its what I'm called by almost everyone back in Russia. Anyone who is pretending to care about me calls me that."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a1f64811e1edbecfa5d1165c648bafde""Sorry," I said, "You have a lot of Nicknames."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="c320e926bdcd1db83ce32522ac13a9d5""Tell me about it," Natasha laughed, taking a quick sip of coffee./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e110cd7b8019e06f50bccc03b12b7de8""What did your family used to call you?" I asked./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="13fe7de2f818659144b331e0868fbbb3"She smiled to herself, "Well, my parents always called me Natalia, or Natasha. But my little brother, when he was little, he couldn't pronounce Natasha or Natalia. He called me Nattie. Not saying you should call me that, but you know."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ac5a960c57d8d35ca301b66a37553169""He's the only one who can call you that," I said knowingly./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9dce5c67cae2ee14b03e9a0c3fbf5b7c""So what do people call you?" she asked./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="95e657c4ccdf9037375fe0ace4511568""Barton," I said, taking a sip of my coffee./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="bee970500c6cc49d52fa1fec955ac73f""Seriously, thats it?" she asked./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d35bdf5542b46ee7fd98d31ac01ea19f""Well, theres not a lot of ways to shorten Clint," I said./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="032dc511fb773c80820a1cd2d890e1bb""No one calls you Arrows, or Legolas, or anything?" she asked./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e724c00d007dde4b2252bcf59a664727""Maybe you can start that tradition, once your not, you know, Russian," I said. She smiled at the idea. "So, is your brother going to be upset, you know, if your not Russian anymore?" I asked. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="dd55e168fefe7ebba1e0644ed0c378c2"Natasha shook her head, "He would have to be alive for that to happen."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f6b017e03dcf017f51728d46a80d94a4""I thought you said..." I trailed off. Remembering her words. em style="box-sizing: border-box;""He got out"/em./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="931f56cc311b1f8c3157d2dc33dfad64""He did get out," she said, "You don't honestly think Drakeov will just let someone out of the KGB do you?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fe376ec60b353f3779a7984be60d33e7""How do you plan to get out then? " I asked./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5c4ef0c954d7214cc0ed569ccd181057"Natasha just looked down into her coffee, "I'll have to kill him."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5a7b1fce134c8a221b167fc8bcce3158"I shook my head. I should have known. But I didn't like it. "What if we just took you, so you never went back."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9b849a6e3cee202704943f8fd9a8ae98""I'm his top spy, so he'd send out ever other spy he has and hunt me down, killing anyone who stood in his way. Its bloody, and it probably start the Cold War again. Or maybe this time someone would actually fire," Natasha said./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d7ba145d323f2ba3df2b80c396fb49fb"I chuckled at the way she phrased that, "Natasha, you and I both know the Cold War never ended."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a4d80493f3b1e9c771f131c3aec8d159"Natasha looked distant. I realized something, "You never told me you were his top spy."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f932bfac86ec7453131e183673668e16""Sorry," she said./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="fe8462379239fc03d14fb7311c934ee8""Care to tell that story?"/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9106619a9981638b5f40a25b569bcb01""Not partiularily," she said, getting up from the table. I followed her, leaving 20 dollars on the table. Then my phone rang, before I could protest again. I answered./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="cfd6b4e5e71ed6616e52fcf322732bc5""Barton."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="dd8b6ff97ec4462884c6f4a8f17f712c""Barton," Fury said, "I'm coming to intervene."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5df510289449d0b23615773db4efe9c3""What?" I asked, "What are you talking about. I've got this handled."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f2bf5f49a54ffcd8e00d6bc2284ea1f1""No, you don't. I'm coming to interogate her myself. If there is one thing off about this chick, she's dropped in international waters. You hear me?" Fury asked./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5d8d1947a8b2357485ac287e644ee423""Yes sir," I said, gloomily./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d104107c5efbb4b441bfe27cd61eacfe""You have 24 hours until I'm there."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; font-size: 18px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5c33a1bddeb7dd5f16a54ddedbe7f1f9"Then the line went dead./p 


	11. Chapter 11

Clint: I got off the phone with Fury, instantly in a worse mood. "So what were you saying about being top spy?" I asked.

"Saying how bad I don't want to tell you that story," Natasha said.

"Would you rather tell me or my superior, who is coming to get the truth out of you right now?" I asked. She looked down. She knew there was only one option or the other, no in between.

"Please, don't make me tell you?" she begged, her voice barely a whisper. She shook her head, "I can't."

"Try," I said, "Because I get the feeling that you would rather talk to me then Fury."

"His name is Fury?" she asked, her voice a little more perky now, "And you say I have a bad boss."

"I know he's not as bad a yours," I said, "Listen, we can head back to the room, you can tell me, and I can tell Fury. But you have to tell one of us. You can choose who."

Finally, Natasha nodded, "Let's go."

We sat where we had for three days now. I seriously hoped my everlasting _Do Not Disturb_ marker outside the door wasn't getting suspicious yet.

"Will you laugh at me if I, you know, cry?" Natasha asked.

"Ha!"I said, "No, I promise."

Natasha: This was the story that haunted my every waking hour.

"My brother and I, we both past our exams. He was a hacker, and his test was to hack the CIA in under an hour, then extract the most guarded piece of information. Mine, as I said before, was a little more brutal. We both passed, and Drakeov wanted me, bad."

"So you went with him, leaving your brother behind, to keep him alive?" Clint asked.

"I wish," I whispered, "No, I convinced Drakeov. I told him that my brother would proove himself worthy. Drakeov took him and me, probably assuming it would make me easier.

"We were a stellar team. I kept an eye on my brother, and often went with him in the field. But Drakeov had other ideas. He offered me the position as his top spy. I told him if I got promoted, my brother would have to remain my team member. So he didn't promote me.

"Once, when we were in the Field, my brother was hacking an encryption, and I was watching the door. Then a man came in shooting. I took him down fast, but not fast enough. Alexi had been shot in the thigh, right in the artery that runs through. I sealed it off, and took him back to Drakeov. It was the only time I actually was scared in the field. I begged Drakeov to fix Alexi, and he said he'd do it, but not for free. I had to become his top spy. So they took me into the room, and Drakeov told me he'd fix me, he'd make me even better than I already was. He said when I came out, Alexi would be fixed. So I sat in that room. They injected me with the most painful injections. To date I can't think of a worse pain. Physically at least. They injected me, put me into surgery doing who knows what to me. They never gave me anything for the pain, saying that could copromise the results. I had to continually tell myself this was for Alexi. Otherwise, I would have died through that pain.

"After three days, they stopped. I couldn't move that whole day, do to how back my body hurt. I would scream at times, just because my body hurt so bad. I blacked out in pain four times, and couldn't sleep for the whole night. Once I did through, I woke up, and felt better, almost perfect. So I went to find Alexi. I found him in the infirmary. He was running a tempature of 106, and his leg was barely stitched up. Drakeov came in behind me. I told him he was supposed to fix him. Drakeov smiled and told me his body had rejected the blood transfusion they had given him. He said the wound was infected. Then he looked at me and admired his work. He said he couldn't have a one legged agent, expecially one that couldn't handle himself. He put a gun to Alexi's head, then pulled the trigger. 'You didn't honestly think we'd fix him did you?' Drakeov had said. But no longer had anything to fight for. My brother was dead. So I did everything Drakeov said, knowing there was no other alternative."

I wiped a tear from my check. Clint looked down into his lap. "So Drakeov got everything he wanted, and he got to kill your brother."

I nodded, "Drakeov thrives on taking away anything that matters to me. Anything that my love for could become a liability. And everytime, I know its my fault."

"It's not your fault," Clint muttered, "His being a sadistic low life isn't your fault. And when its finally time, we'll fix this. We'll make sure he won't do this to anyone else."

"You make it sound easy," I noted.

"It won't be," Clint said, "But I'll be there for you. No matter what."

He moved across the room to sit next to me, wrapping his fingers through mine. I laid my head against his shoulder, letting myself cry for the first time in years. He just sat there with me, telling me everything I needed to hear.


	12. Chapter 12

Natasha: The next morning, I awoke to Clint packing up his stuff. "Good, you're awake," he said, "I need to know something."

"What?" I asked, still groggy.

"If I leave, will you leave as well?" he asked.

"And do what exactly. I'm not exactly one for sight seeing," I said.

"That's what I thought you might say," Clint said, "I'm running out of zip ties. I'm going to pick up my boss, see if I can exaplain some of this to him before he gets here. You stay here, be good, don't leave, and maybe he'll trust you a little more."

"Would you like me to tie myself to the bed or something before you get back to make you look better?" I asked sarcastically.

"WOuld you?" Clint asked sincerly. I rolled my eyes.

"Can I order room service, or will he take that as going too easy on me?" I asked.

"Listen, if you want to be a US citizen, he's your way to get it. If he doesn't approve, you'll never get past airport security at Budapest Ferenc Liszt International Airport, let alone be allowed into the US as a citizen."

I pretended to zip my lip, then said, "So is that an exnay on the room service or...?"

Clint rolled his eyes, then he left.

A few moments after Clint left, I had room service on my lap. Then I heard a door open behind me.

I turned around fast, raising one of my guns I had found in the 20 seconds Clint had been gone before room service, which had been stowed in the toilet tank. "Here, all this time, I thought you were trying to get out," a voice said. Wint stared back at me, his eyes cold and dangerout.

"Wint," I said.

"So he's offering you to get away from Drakeov, and you'll do anything he asks," Wint said, "Should have signed up for that plan."

"I don't know what you heard, but I promise you, its not real," I said, "I've been faking this whole time."

"Natalia, if there is anything I have ever known about you, its that you _never_ fake tears," Wint said.

"Of course I did. Its the only way to get what I need," I said.

"You expect me to believe that too!" Wint said, "Rememeber who was there with you when your brother was killed! That was all true Natasha! All of it! You're giving him information!"

"He's offering me a chance!" I said.

"I know there's more there too," Wint said, his eyes and voice icy and acidic.

"What else do you think there is?" I asked.

"You like him. No, I think its farther than that. You kiss him, and cry on his shoulder. Don't tell me that all an _act!"_ Wint said.

"Wint, you don't know what your talking about?" I asked, "There is nothing between us!" Even to me it wasn't convincing though.

"You don't believe that," Wint shook his head, "Does what I did for you mean nothing?!"

"We knew that was a risk from the beginning Wint!" I said.

"But I did it! You didn't even take a blow!" Wint nearly shouted now.

"If you would have played your cards right neither would you!" I said, matching his volume.

"Sorry I don't have the _assets_ Drakeov sees in you!" Wint shot back.

"I haven't seen you in almost 3 years Wint! And you expect me to be _in love with you!_ " I shouted.

Wint looked as if I had slapped him.

"I went through electro shock, injections meant just to cause pain, and was beaten," Wint said, his voice now barely more than a whisper, "And none of it matters?"

I looked down from his hurt face. "I haven't even seen you Wint," I said.

"Yes, but you've known him for not even four days now. You spent one day of it unconcious because of it," Wint said, "And I'm not supposed to be a little hurt you chose him over me." Wint shook his head, laughing a little.

"Maybe you really are the Black Widow," he said. Then he opened the window and jumped out. I sat down on the floor, for a moment not sure what to feel. But I was almost... relieved. Realizing now I didn't have to break anyones hearts to get what I needed.


	13. Chapter 13

Clint: I sat in the taxi as Fury got in. "Where is she?" Fury asked.

"Back at the room," I explained.

"See Barton, this is why I'm here," Fury said.

"She's more trustworthy than you think," I said.

"Why don't I believe you. No person is trust worthy Barton. Especially a Russian spy," Fury said.

"Sir, she wants to be a United States agent. Tell me, why would she lie, if that's what she wants," I said.

"She's lying about wanting to be a US agent," Fury said, without missing a beat.

"Sir, with all due respect, your wrong this time. She's hardly even dangerous, once you seperate the mission from the equation," I said.

"Yeah, there's just that minor detail," Fury chuckled.

"Sir, she's explained where she was trained, exactly who she is working for. She didn't even know she was injected with the serum," I said.

"I'm assuming you gave that part away," Fury said. I didn't say anything.

"Barton, this is why I wanted her dead. You'll never be able to tell she's lying. And now she has the only piece of intel we even had on her," he said.

"I _know_ you can trust her," I said, "I'll proove it."

We pulled up at the hotel, and I showed Fury to the room. I opened the door. _The moment of truth_ I thought to myself. The door sung open, revealing Natasha, sitting on the floor, tied to the foot of the bed with the tie I had worn to the gala. I couldn't help smiling to myself.

"Will you untie me yet?" she asked.

"See," I said to Fury, "She's still here."

"What's your name, agent?" Fury asked her, ignoring me completely.

"Natasha Romanov," she said, smiling, "At your service."

"Who do you report to?" Fury asked.

"Drakeov," she said, "And the KGB. I'm hoping I can get your help in changing that."

"Sorry, not looking for natorious murderers on my team," Fury said, his voice ice cold.

"I'm hardly a murderer," Natasha said, "Every time I'm following orders."

"Sorry, I meant natorious assassin," Fury said, still bitter.

"Thank you," Natasha said.

"How many people have you killed total?" Fury asked.

"7 assassinations, but you already knew that," Natasha said, raising one red eyebrow.

"Yes, I had to see if you are the type who likes to exagerate," Fury said.

"You said it yourself, I'm a natorious assassin. What would be the need to exagerate?" Natasha asked.

"Why haven't you killed Agent Barton if your so dangerous?" Fury asked.

"Maybe because I want to change," she said, "I want to be a US agent. I won't even be able to fly into the US without your approval. Seems fitting."

"Where is the Red Room located?" Fury asked. I had mentioned it to him on the ride here.

"St. Petersberg. On Polozova. Building 7. Next to the KACCbi- BECBi. Across from it is building 8, a red industrial door, graffiti on the window coverings. That is KGB headquarters," Natasha explained. I had to say I was impressed.

"If I went there, I would find the KGB, and the Red Room?" Fury asked.

"Yes. I would show you there myself," Natasha said, making direct eye contact.

"I might give you that chance," Fury said, "If I could trust a single syllable that came from those lips."

"I never expect you to," Natasha said, "Like you said, I'm dangerous. Trusting me would hardly proove your superiority over me. But, don't worry, I won't tell. You could shoot me, if I proove to be lying. But at least untie me."

Fury smirked to himself, which I took as a good sign. "I see why you like her Barton," he said after a moment, "She's funny."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Untie her," he instructed, "Let's see what she does."

I went around and untied her. She had it in a really tight knot. After a few moments, she opened her hand, exposing a sharp piece of wood from the detatched leg. I smirked, then grabbed the piece of wood, cutting her free. She moved her hands in front of her, loosening the joints again. Then she just looked at Fury, waiting.

"Smart move," Fury noted, "If I gave you a weapon, would you shoot me?"

"Only if it needed to be done," Natasha said.

"Would it be ' _needed'_ now?" Fury asked.

"No," she said, "Of course not. Like I said, I want to be an agent for you. Shooting you seems like that would become out of the picture."

"You would be right," Fury said.

"Listen, I know you'll never trust me. You don't have any reason too, and you barely trust Barton. Can we skip this whole I'll never trust you exercise, and just get to the part where you start to pretend like you would someday."

"What part is that?" Fury asked.

"Where you give me a gun. Where I start to try to proove myself to you," Natasha offered.

"Nice try," Fury said.

Natasha sighed, "Fine, I'll figure out something else."

Fury smiled at her defeat.


	14. Chapter 14

Clint: "Can I at least leave the room for just a few minutes?" Natasha asked, "Just for a walk?"

"Uh no, you're not a dog, you don't need walks," Fury said.

"Clint can come with," Natasha said. I looked to Fury with this.

"Fine," Fury said, "5 minutes, if you hurt my guy I will hunt you to the edge of the earth."

"I didn't expect anything else," Natasha said, grabbing my hand.

We walked out the door. "You know you could try please," I pointed out.

"Because he would totally bow to please," Natasha said sarcastically.

"He's a good guy," I said after a moment of silence.

"I'm sure. I just wish we could see eye to eye that's all," Natasha said, her voice distant. She stopped, looking over a railing which overlooked the lobby. I leaned over as well. She looked down at a group of good looking women, all in athletic wear, giggling an chatting.

In Russian.

"What are they saying?" I asked. She didn't need to know I spoke Russian. I wanted her to interpret it. To get that look she got when she thought she was out smarting me.

"Their talking about the nasty champagne on their flight over. A few are talking about the upcoming show tonight," she said, almost a note of sadness in her voice, "They're the Russian ballet." She paused for a moment, "See that girl with the blonde bun and the black sport jacket?"

"Yeah," I said, looking at who she was talking about.

"That's Galina. She was training with me. Now she's the star of the show, but she wasn't then. She was always so nice to me. Excepecially after I lost my parents," she said, smiling just a little, "And that," she pointed to a girl with a brown curling ponytail, "That's Angelina." She looked down sadly, "She was always so nice to me. Her sister was also a dancer."

"Was?" I asked.

"I killed her," Natasha said, "As my Test."

I stayed silent again for another moment. "Why don't you get out of the KGB and go back to dancing."

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head, "I guess I'm just not into dancing anymore."

"Oh come on," I said, almost laughing, "You practically stalk the Russian Ballet."

Natasha laughed, "I do not!"

"Maybe not, but I know you know they were going to be here," I said, "Come on, why not."

"Even if I wanted to, I haven't danced in years," Natasha said, "I could never actually make it in again."

I got an idea, "Well why don't we see?"

"What do you mean by that?" Natasha asked, confusion clouding her face.

"Come on," I said, "Dance with me."

Natasha laughed, "I can find so much wrong with that plan."

"And what exactly is that?" I asked, putting my hands on my hip.

"There's no music!" Natasha said.

"Oh come on, you are a girl, you have watched enough romance movies to know how stupid an argument that is. Cliche even!" I said, laughing.

"Fine, Natasha laughed, "I highly doubt your the right partner. You'd never keep up!"

"I think you'd be amazed at how nimble an ex-carnie is," I pointed out.

"I hardly have the right shoes," Natasha said. I looked down at her black boots. She was right, hardly ballet slippers.

"Give them a try," I said, "Come on, what do you have to loose from dancing with me."

Natasha rolled her eyes and sighed. "Fine."

She took a deep breath, "So what do you know about ballet."

"What is the Russian word for diddly squat?" I asked. Natasha laughed.

"Okay, so first thing you should know is everything you do in ballet is on your toes," Natasha said. She started bending her toes, so she got taller. She grabbed the railing, getting up on top of her toes, much to my amazement. She whispered something in amazement in Russian to herself. "Your turn," she told me, not letting go of the railing.

I stood on my tippy-toes, not hardly as awesome as she could. She laughed. It felt good to hear her laugh.

"Well I suppose we all start somewhere," she said.

"Should I try a twirl?" I asked, doing a stupid twirl and almsot falling over the railing. She laughed again. "Your turn," I told her.

She rolled her eyes, then twirled, going around three times, then getting wobbly and falling over.

"I knew these wern't the right shoes," she muttered to herself.

"Yeah, that sucked," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. She punched me in the arm.

"Just try dancing. I'm really a lost cause," I told Natasha.

"There's no music," she protested a second time.

So I started humming, hitting my hand to the beat on the railing. I hummed _Livin' On A Preyer_ by Bon Jovi. She laughed, but danced anyway. She twirled and spun, contorting her body into amazing position. All the while laughing at herself and smiling. At one point I caught her hand, and started dancing with her, doing everything I could to impress herI lifted her up, preying I didn't drop her, while she added the elegance.

A moment later, the song I was humming ended, and Natasha just stood there, looking into my eyes.

"I said 5 minutes, Barton," a voice said behind us, although it sounded so much more distant. I blushed and let go of Natasha's waist.

"Sorry sir," I said, "Romanov here was just displaying a bit of vulnerability."

"She wasn't the only one," Fury said. Natasha and I followed him back to the room. Right before we turned into the room, Natasha kissed me on the cheek, much to my surprise.

"Thank you," she whispered. Then she walked in the room.


	15. Chapter 15

Clint: We sat in the room, in almost silence. Fury would come up with a question every now and then, and Natasha would answer.

"Listen, I'm just curious, is there any chance at all that I could become a SHIELD agent after this?" Natasha asked at one point.

"Sorry," Nick said, "Not looking to adopt a stray KGB agent at the moment."

"Seriously?" Natasha asked, and for the first time, I actually thought she looked furious, "So I'm spilling my soul and it might not do anything?!"

"Thank you," was all Nick replied with.

"What would it take to proove myself to you?" Natasha asked.

"Um, I guess probably a little more than a complete and total miracle," Nick said, "I will never trust you."

Natasha sat there, seething, for a few moments. Then she looked up at Fury, her eyes filled with an idea.

"What if I killed Drakeov?" she asked, her voice quiet.

"If I believed you would do that, then you might have a small shot at it," Fury said, "I don't know you will though."

"Its not like I'm just going to walk out of the KGB anyway. I have to kill him if I want out," she said.

"How do you plan on doing this?" I asked.

"I have my ways," she said with a cocky smile, "I could also take away all the files they have that could pose a threat to the US, even bring them to the US. Would you trust me then."

Fury thought it over for a moment.

"Then I would most defnately find you a spot, just because you would be the one to single handedly bring down the KGB," Fury said, much to my surprise.

Natasha smiled.

"But," Fury said, "Even if you did that, your too scrubbed clean. You don't have a single piece of information on you. It would turn heads on making you an official citizen of the US. And frankly, I don't want to have to deal with Homeland Security and Immigrations. You're just not worth it."

"So your saying even if I single handedly bring down a Russian Government agency, you won't be able to make me a US agent," Natasha said, the disapointment washing over her face.

"There's got to be something we can do," I interjected.

"Well, if you can come up with something Barton, then I'm open. But until then..." Fury trailed off.

"I have tons of alliaces and stories to get myself into the US. They're air tight, and backed by you it would probably go over fine," Natasha offerd.

"Except it would be highly illegal," Nick said, "If we're going to do this, I would love to honest about it."

We sat in silence for a moment, and I wracked my brain for different ways to get someone into the country. The main ones I came up with were illegal.

Natasha shifted in her seat, "Listen this idea is totally crazy and I know its going to get shot down, but hear me out."

"I'm listening," Fury said.

"What is Russia well known for?" Natasha asked, waiting for us to guess.

"Vodka," I said.

"Other than that," Natasha said, rolling her eyes.

Fury just stared at her impaciently. I on the other hand, tried to come up with what it was she was getting at. Was she planning to sneak into the US through the Olympics?

"Mail Order Brides," Natasha finally filled in. Okay of all the places my mind wasn't thinking of that was the last one it was going.

"Where are you going with this?" Fury asked.

"It's how the drug addict women and porn stars and prostitutes all get out. They barely look at your record. You tie yourself to some other American, live with them for two years, then, poof, you have a green card and are free to live in the US," Natasha said. It was actually a good plan. Insane, but it would probably work. That was a shady business when I thought about it.

"You realize how insane that is right?" I asked her, "I mean its kind of getting married to someone."

"Yeah. I would just need to find someone whos willing to have a quiet, hot red headed roommate for two years though," Natasha said.

"You mean wife," I corrected.

"Unless I could find someone who was just in need of a roommate, who happens to make it so they can't get married for two years. I mean its not like its all that hard to get a divorce anymore," Natasha said.

"You realize we don't just have a list of single guys ready to get married to someone just on a whim right?" Fury asked.

"I just need one guy. I just need to find one before I kill Drakeov. Because I am not going to stick around Russia afterward," Romanoff said.

"Natasha, can I talk to you in the hall please," I asked, looking at Fury. He nodded, and Natasha followed me out.

I closed the door behind us. "You realize what your doing right?" I asked, "This is nuts."

"What's so nuts about it?" she asked, "I need out, I'm willing to do anything for it."

"Yes, but your talking about _marriage_ ," I said.

Natasha stared at me blankly for a few moments. It was agrivating.

"If you do this, your giving up every little girls dream. The big wedding, with a loving husband, a pretty dress. Your giving up all of that," I pointed out.

"You said it yourself. A _little girls dream._ Love is for children," Natasha said, "Besides, I gave up that dream years ago."

I shook my head, "This is crazy."

"And it just prooves how much I need this," Natasha said.

"Is that what this is about. Prooving yourself to Fury?" I asked.

"This is about getting all I have ever wanted since I was 15 years old," Natasha said.

I shook my head, knowing what I was about to say was insane. But I knew how much this meant to her. She needed me to do this.

"Fine, what about using me."

"Using you?" Natasha asked.

"Yeah. Live with me for two years. I'll marry you," I said.

"Clint..." Natasha said.

"If you want this, use me," I said.

"Clint, I'll never be able to thank you enough," Natasha said, extreme gratitude washing over her face, "I promise, you won't need to worry about me. I'll just be like a roommate. You can have girls over and date and stuff, it doesn't have to be a real commitment."

"Okay," I said, "I can do it. If you really want it this bad." But I could barely cover my disapointment.

She just saw it as a means to an end.

But what if I wanted more?


	16. Chapter 16

Natasha: When we told Fury our plan, he was less than enthusiastic.

"You want to do what, Agent Barton?" he asked.

"I want to be the man that Romanov here marries to get into the US," Clint said.

Fury sighed, putting his head down and rubbing his temples. "Barton," he began, "You are my very best agent. Out of respect to you, I would like to advise you _against_ this at this juncture."

"Sir, with all due respect, I disagree. She needs this," Clint said.

"Barton, you just met her. Like, litterally, you've known her for 4 days," Fury said.

"And I only have to put up with her for two years," Clint said.

"Yeah, and then divorce her," Fury said, "Believe me that is harder than you seem to think it is."

"I'll sign a prenup," I cut in.

"You make it sound like I just have those on hand for the off chance one of my agents wants to marry a Russian want-to-be Fugitive," Fury said.

"I'm doing this with or without your consent. But you said if she killed Drakeov she could have a spot. If I do this, it gives her the ability to get into the US," Clint said, "To me, this looks like the best option."

"Or you could just wait for her to gain some actually credibility with the US," Fury said, "Barton, you don't even know if she's still lying."

"She won't go through with it if she is," Clint said.

Fury sighed, scartching his forehead. Then he shook his head, "To save your butt, Barton, I'll make some calls about that prenup. YOu two figure the rest of this crazy plan out."

I was kind of surprised when Clint smiled that the plan was going to work out.

"So where do you want to do this?" Clint asked.

We went down to the Lobby to discover, much to our convenience , that the hotel offered wedding services.

"What days do you have open?" I asked, "Clint and I," I pulled Clint closer to me, plastering a cheesy, overly happy grin on my face, "We came to Budapest seperate, but we met and now we just can't wait another second."

"Excellent," the secretary said, "The next full day we have open is in October."

"Seriously?" I asked.

"We don't need a full day," Clint put in, "Even 15 minutes would do."

"That's really not how we work," the secretary said, "But how soon do you need it?"

"We ship home to the US in two days," I interjected. As it was I was sure Drakeov was suspisious. Clint nodded and played along.

"Well, maybe we could fit in 15 minutes tomorrow. And you said you were from the US?"

"Yes," Clint said.

"I'll check but we should be able to accommodate that," she said with a smile.

"Thank you so much," I said, smiling. So we finalized everything that needed to be done previous to the day, then we were off.

"I've got a Prenup printing off now," Fury said, whom had been waiting for us outside the chapel.

"So what else needs to be done?" Natasha asked.

"Nothing. You'll just sign the papers, we'll fax them to one of our lawers, and then you guys can go skip off into the sunset," Fury said, the last part overflowing with sarcastic tone.

I signed the prenup without a hint of regret, picked out a cheap ring for Clint, which he purchased in an effort to conceal it from Drakeov, and before long, I was tossing and turning in my own room. They finally agreed to let me go back to my own room, since Fury was not about to share a bed with Clint, and Clint and I mutually agreed sleeping in the same bed was not going to be a part of our retionship, at least at this juncture. Of course, I didn't sleep well. I kept imagining what Alexi would say at my decision. He always had a traditional view on life, even from the young age of 10. I knew he would hate the idea of me getting married out of convienence. He would have told me how this wasn't the best way to go about getting what I wanted.

 _Stop_ I thought to myself. I closed my eyes just trying to fall asleep. I was getting what I wanted, one way or another.

The next day a knock came on my door, the clock next to my bed reading 6:00 AM. I rubbed my eyes and answered.

"Good, you're still here," Clint said, "We're scheduled for 11:00. But um, I have a personal request."

"Shoot," I said, my voice still groggy.

"Wear a dress," Clint said.

"I thought we agreed we weren't going to make this real," I argued.

"But I would still feel wrong if I was marrying a girl in a cat suit. Please. For me?" he asked.

I figured I owed him enough already.

"Fine," I consented. Clint smiled.

"I'll see you at 11:00. Be there or I'll hunt you down if its the last thing I do," he threatened. I smiled a little to myself, then closed to door.

I changed into the black dress I had worn the night of the gala. It felt like it had been ages since I put it on. I put on red lipstick and let my hair fall over my shoulders. Then I waited for Clint.

"Really, black?" he asked when he arrived. To my amazement, he wore the black tux pants from the party, along with the white shirt. Maybe he was taking this more seriously than I was.

"I wasn't about to where white," I said, "Not to mention I wasn't about to put a new dress on Drakeov's tab. Not this late anyway."

"Has he called?" Clint asked.

"No. He won't either. That would require him to care about your well being. He just hopes you show up eventually, and if you don't then so be it," I explained. The doors to the chapel opened, and the minister pointed us in.

He went into the vows. Something about having and holding, loving and cherishing, blah blah blah. Finally it came my time to put the ring on. It was a gold and tungsten combination, the black and the gold clashing together to make just the right contrast.

"Repeat after me," the minister said, "I give you this ring as a symbol of my love."

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love," I repeated, glad at the moment for my excellent lying skills.

"With this ring I marry you," the minister said.

"With this ring I marry you," I repeated. I slid the ring on Clint's finger. In that moment I knew I couldn't look into his eyes. It felt wrong.

I barely listened as Clint said his part, but I felt the cold weight of the ring, as it slid on my finger. I looked down at it. It was silvery with elegant swirls or the metal around a small firey red gem. I had to say, it was beautiful, even if it only made this harder.

"Do you, Clint Barton, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the minister asked that moment, I questioned whether or not I wanted him to say yes.

"I do," Clint said, his voice sure, but not quite certain. Does that make any scense?

"Do you Natasha Romanov, take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the minister asked me.

For the first time since the beginning of the ceremony I looked up at Clint. He seemed so sure this was a good move. I knew I couldn't betray him.

"I do," I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the minister said.

I got ready to kiss Clint. When out lips met, I didn't feel the uncertainty, even if this was the binding moment. This moment was the beginning of changing everything.

Maybe even for the better.


	17. Chapter 17

Natasha: "I'm sorry," Clint said as I rode with him to the airport, only two hours later. I had barely even been able to talk to him since. He had given me back my guns, along with my prized Widow's bite bracelets, which were laced with the ability to give an electrical charge. They were the one and only perk to working for Drakeov.

"For what?" I asked, confused.

"For making it real," Clint said.

"What made it real?" I asked, glancing out the window at the passing buildings.

"Making you wear a dress, the ring," Clint said, "I'm sorry. I just thought..."

"It's okay," I said, looking back at him, "If you needed to do it to go through with what was essentially my dirty work, I wasn't about to complain."

"I didn't do it for me," Clint said.

I stared back, confused, "Then who did you do it for?"

"You," Clint said, "You may say love is for children, but deep down, I know how much doing this meant to you. I don't want you to look back 10 years from now and wish your first wedding would have been more, because it will never be the first one again."

I sighed, looking down at the ring. It was beautiful. "Thank you," I said, "Even though I can't honestly tell you if it made it worse or better. You've done so much. I owe you a debt now."

We pulled up in my terminal, and I got out, CLint following. I pulled my bag of guns out of the back, along, the bag also holding my cat suit and dress.

"You'll come back right?" Clint asked.

"Of course," I said, "Worst case scenario I have to bring the ring back."

Clint pursed his lips in a smile. "In that case we'll talk about how much you owe me, after you kill Drakeov."

"Solid deal," I said. I hugged him.

"Thank you for the opprotunities, and the marriage, and for letting me cry on your shoulder when I told you my story," I said.

"I'll see you soon," Clint said. _Not if I die first_ I thought to myself.

I headed towards the terminal, ready to kill Drakeov.

Clint: Fury appeared behind me, from where the world may never know. I didn't know what I felt in that moment.

"You think she's coming back?" Fury asked.

"Yeah," I said, "Worst case scenario she has to come back to sign the divorce papers."

"You think Drakeov can't wipe them out with one of his stupid hackers?" Fury asked, "Whatever, that's why she'll never have a spot in SHIELD."

"What?" I asked, turning to face him.

"Sorry Barton, I never planned on giving your girl a spot," Fury said.

"I just got married for that lie!" I said angrilly.

"Congratulations. I'll make sure I get you something off your registry," Fury said.

"So in the end she'll have given this much up, but she'll get nothing?" I asked.

"She won't be living under Drakeov. She can still be a US citizen, but she just won't be working for me," Fury said.

I shook my head in disbelief. "What do you say we get out of this crappy place Barton. I'll buy you a beer for your trouble," Fury said.

"Sorry sir," I said, backing away, "I quit."

I pulled my SHIELD badge out of my pocket and handed it to Fury, then I walked away.

Natasha: I arrived in Russia sooner than I would have liked. I pulled off my ring instantly, putting it in the front pocket of my suitcase. I saw a car waiting for me, and I got in.

"You're leave was extended longer than expected," Drakeov said, drinking a scotch facing me in the car, "I assume that means it was more productive?"

"Hostage situation. They wanted information. I'm fine, by the way," I said.

"Careful Natalia," he said, "We wouldn't want you getting snippy with me now would we."

"My apologies sir," I said.

We pulled up at the KGB offices, and I followed Drakeov. It was amazing. Clint had taken me hostage initally, but I had felt more free with him the whole time. I followed Drakeov into his office. To my horror, there was someone else in there. Wint stood in the corner, rubbing his human hand with his metal one.

"Natalia, I trust you remember the Winter Soldier," Drakeov said, sitting down at his desk.

"Yes sir," I said, not taking my eyes away from Wint, "Sir, am I dismissed?"

"No," Drakeov said, "Natalia, in your absence the world did not stop spinning. We have a new plan in action. The Winter Soldier here will be helping us put these plans into action."

"Plans, sir?" I asked.

"Bombs Natalia," Drakeov said, "In your absence, we managed to get our hands on the making for a large amount of the makings for Nuclear Bombs, small ones, but dangerous. We have a plan in action. We are going to take down the US once and for all. Then move on to the rest. Russia will be the most powerful force in the world."

"Sir, does the president approve?" I asked, confused.

"These are not in the Presidents power, my young Natalia," Drakeov said.

Now I got it. I swallowed, "So you'll hold all the chips on the world."

"Your training precedes you," Drakeov said, "I'll need your help. We'll be testing our bombs in Budapest. We'll need you to survey what you saw of Buapest and what you think is the most devestating place to hit. You will be working along side The Winter Soldier in this, so lets hope this time you two will be able to...controll. yourselves."

I swallowed and nodded.

All I knew was this. The world was going to be bombed, the US as the main target, and Drakeov was going to hold all the chips.


	18. Chapter 18

Natasha: Once I was alone with Wint, I looked him dead in the eye. If he was lying it was going to be hard to tell.

"You better not have told him anything, or else I am doomed," I said, "He'll kill me."

"And I'm supposed to care," Wint said, his voice icy, "Because you cared so much about the fac that I could have died for you." I just stared at him for a long moment. Finally he shook his head, "Don't worry Natalia. I would have to care what happens with the Russians to tell."

"You didn't say anything. You stupid secret is safe," he said. He started toward the door, and I followed. I turned at the last moment. I went towards the science division of the building.

Once I was there, I looked for a door, something that screamed _Nuclear Bomb Materials in here!_ Sadly that was a lot harder than I expected. So I started twisting the knobs. Finally, I found a door that was locked. I smiled. I tried to decide how to get in. I pulled the hair pin from my hair, picking the lock in an instant. One thing I loved about Drakeov, he still fell for the oldest tricks.

I opened the door, and was amazed at what I saw. There was all sorts of materials. Enough Plutonium to blow up the moon. All sorts of detonators. I felt cold to my bones. There was enough here to take down ever city in the world, whatever was nessassary. There weren't properllers on the bomb casings so, I took that as a good sign. Not that any of this was good. I slowly closed the door behind me. I turned towards my apartment, pulling out a phone Clint had given me to contact him.

Clint: I was at a bar in Budapest, wondering when I was going home, _if_ I was going home. I grabbed my scotch, about to take a swig, when my phone rang. Natasha.

I picked up the phone faster than I had ever done anything. "That was fast," I answered, "Is it done?"

 _Did it matter_? I thought to myself.

"There's a bigger threat. I promise I didn't know anything about it when I left for Budapest," Natasha said.

"I believe you," I said, "What is it?"

"They have the makings for a pretty deadly situation," Natasha's voice got a lot quieter now, "Hold on, give me a minute."

I waited in silence, then finally she started talking again, "Nuclear bombs. I just did an inventory, and Clint, there's enough to blow up the moon. Every city could be bombed if nessassary."

My eyes widened at the words. "What's Russia planning on doing?"

"Not Russia. Drakeov," Natasha said. That's when I knew it was really bad. "They're testing them in Budapest. Call everyone Clint. Call whoever you can to help. We need them all. Budapest first, then the US is next. My guess would be New York."

"Copy that," I said.

"I'm going to keep my cover until I can join up with you and the American forces in the Budapest. I can't take this all out now," Natasha said, "ETA 26 hours. I'll call you with any further updates."

"Be careful," I said, "I'll make some calls."

"Romanov out," Natasha said. Then she hung up.

I had given up my SHIELD badge. This was bad. I tried to call Fury.

"You've reached Agent Nicolas J. Fury. I cannot take your call at this present momen-"

"Come on!" I said. I looked at my watch. He would have been in the air for two hours. It being a ten hour flight was definatly going to cut this close. I didn't know who to call.

I knew one thing. There was a large chance a lot of people were going to die. I put a 20 dollar bill on the bar, and left, getting ready to call whoever it took to get the people I needed in.


	19. Chapter 19

Natasha: I mapped out what I had gotten to see of Budapest. I explained it to the KGB troops. "We could land," I pointed to a grassy park area I had seen on my way to the airport, "Here, with little disturance and casualty. We would ake our way up this road," I ran my finger along the road, "To the poltical building here. Its about a quarter mile, but there is where we could do the most damage."

"A quarter mile, seems a bit long. What if we're apprehended?" Tortorov, an agent two years my inferior, asked.

"We take them out," I said, "There was never a rule stating this was a covert mission." _Hopefully, they'll know we're coming_ I thought to myself.

"Where would we plant the bombs?" Zaroff, a different agent, asked.

"I don't know," I admitted, "I never got inside. How much delay is on the bombs."

"30 seconds," Drakeov said from the corner.

"So how woud we get them not to just disarm the bomb or evacuate in 30 seconds," I muttered to myself. I started thinking differently. How could we kill the most KGB, maybe even Drakeov in the process.

"We'll need agents on the doors, and by the bomb," I said, "By my estimate, theres got to be four or five different exit sights, counting fire exits. We block those to ensure maximum casualties, we block the bomb to make sure no one disarms it."

"Your plan also included maximum casualties of our own men," Tortorov pointed out. _I know_ I thought to myself.

"Its what's nessassary to get the job done. If we want this for Drakeov, we need to do this," I said.

The men around me shook their heads defeatedly.

I followed Drakeov to his office. "Quite the battle plans Natalia," he said, "I have to admit, I'm impressed by the heroics."

"Thank you sir," I said. Then I looked down at my feet to get ready to act. "Sir," I said, "I believe that you shouldn't come with us at this juncture."

This was my plan. Tell Drakeov it would be too dangerous for him, and he would be in the middle of the battle.

Drakeov smiled, "Glad to see you still worry about me Natalia, but I'm not going to miss the best show of all time."

I nodded. "I'll see you in 12 hours sir," I said.

I went up to my apartment, calling Clint.

"The plans are set," I said the moment he picked up.

"Yeah," he asked. I explained the plans I had just told the KGB.

"I'll give you the signal halfway up to the Political Building. You'll break away from the pack. Then we'll work together to take them each down. You'll get to the bomb, destroy it, then you'll get to Drakeov," Clint brainstormed.

"Seems a bit vaugue. Who do you have coming to help?" I asked.

Clint sighed, "Fury called a few people, but none of them will get there in time for the initial attack. We'll need an hour before anyone gets there. The Hungarian army isn't wants to take control, but the president is only putting them on standby, in order to avoid a war with Russia."

"We need more men than thism" I muttered.

"We only have to subdue them an hour," Clint said.

"The whole mission isn't supposed to take a _half_ an hour," I pointed out, "This is a suicide mission."

"Not if we do this right. You're the top spy. You have some pull," Clint said.

"You have no idea how wrong you are," I muttered, "I've got to move. I'll see you in 2 hours."

"Good luck," Clint said.

"If I had any luck this wouldn't be happening," I said. Then I hung up.


	20. Chapter 20

Natasha: I followed as everyone climbed into vans to catch our planes. The air field wasn't but a 10 minute drive from HQ.

I rode in the front. Wint drove the car I rode in. He didn't say a word the whole car ride.

We pulled up on the tarmack, and we each loaded into our designated planes. I tried to get a rough estimate on who was here. Or how many people I would be up against.

It was then I caught the sheer enormity of what I was going to do. These agents had been my family for the past 7 years. Now this all going to end, and I was going to do everything I could to kill them.

I stood by Wint, holding onto the orange netting and we took off. "Is this the Winter Soldier sulking?" I asked, trying to ease my state with a little playful banter.

"I don't sulk," Wint said, his voice a bitter mutter.

"Well you hardly said anything on the ride over," I said, "Are you sure?"

"Natasha, first I want to point out that right now it is taking every muscle in my body to continue to hold onto this net and not kill you," Wint snapped, "And second, don't flatter yourself sweetheart. I'm over you."

I swallowed. I didn't truly believe he was over me, but then again, if I had good training, he had better. I looked away for the rest of the flight.

We landed exactly where I mapped, and we all came out on the grass. It was a really pretty park. I felt kind of bad for destroying it. "Take them down," I said, pointing to a family enjoying a picnic. The mother screamed, and I wanted to cry. But a moment later, I heard the three gunshots, and I knew it was over. I looked around, trying to find Drakeov. He was no where to be found.

We started our walk down the street. I started checking windows, looking for Clint. I heard gunshots all around me. I tried to ignore the fact that I carried a bomb on my back. Finally, I found Clint in a window. He gave me a hand signal. At this moment, I turned to my men. "Keep true to course, I'm going to go check something." They contninued to march, and I started toward where I saw Clint. I looked up again, and then I watched as a set of hands pulled him down from the window.

I raced into the building. I finally got to the room and saw the men jump out the window. I ran after him. He was good, fast, even with Clint on his back. He ran along the roof top, and I chased him. "Hey!" I screamed. He didn't even flinch, just kept running. I tried looking across the rooftops, trying to find a way to intercept him, but even I could tell there was nothing I could do. I tried to pick up speed. I pulled out my gun to shoot, but from the distance, I knew I ran a high risk of hitting Clint, and I would never be able to forgive myself for that. I raced along. Finally I saw him jump.

I ran as fast as I could then saw it was only a 15 foot drop, and he was running along a 100 feet ahead. I could probably close that gap in a few seconds, end this chase.

I ran along, and then I was a few moments from closing the gap, went we jumped through a window. I landed on top of the guy and we tumbled down a flight of dark wooden stairs. I pinned him to the ground, Clint finally stopping his tumble at the foot of a grandfather clock.

I looked at the face of the man who had gotten Clint. I recognized him as one of Drakeov's secret squad, a group of men who basically followed any command Drakeov gave them, but had very few missions.

Finally, I knocked out the guy and walked over to Clint. I turned him towards me. "Clint," I whispered, "Clint are you okay."

He moaned after a few moments, and I saw blood starting to stain his shirt. I held my hand over the wound. This was going to complicate things. "Ah, Natalia," a voice said above me, "My favorite little traitor."

I felt a pain in my head, like a fast pound, and then my world went black.


	21. Chapter 21

Natasha: I awoke on a cold, hard floor. I rubbed my head. That hurt.

I opened my eyes, and saw a pair of feet standing above me. I looked upward, seeing it was Clint. "Alright this time I don't blame you," I told him, attempting to laugh a little.

"He can't hear you," a voice said.

I sat up fast, Drakeov walking towards me, rubbing his palms, not even giving me the charity of a glance.

"Don't worry, he won't hurt you," Drakeov said, "At least, not at the moment. Did he ever tell you he was deaf?"

"What?" I asked, "What did you do to him."

"Merely set him free of his troubles," Drakeov said. He opened his palm, letting two little beads of sorts fall out onto the ground. "He won't be needing these."

He squished the beads under the heel of his shoe, smiling to himself, "Isn't it amazing, how I just crushed one of his senses, in one single motion?"

"What did you do to him?" I muttered again.

"Watch this," Drakeov said. He did a small wrist movement, something most people wouldn't have noticed. But it was enough for Clint and me. In less than a half a second, Clint grabbed my throat, pressing in, pressing me against a wall. I gasped for air.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Drakeov asked.

"Clint, please, its me, Natasha," I said through my gasps.

"First, he can't hear you, remember, and second you are honestly stupid enough to think that will work aren't you?" Drakeov said, "I mean, you were stupid enough to come back after you told trade secrets to the Americans. After the Winter Soldier figured it out. So I figure you wanted to kill me." Clints fingers got tighter around my neck.

"So I made myself a body guard."

"What did you do to him," I asked, my voice horse and labored.

"I upgraded his mind with a new little device. I can control him with my own mind. He does my bidding," Drakeov said, "It's rather enlightening actually." Then he smiled, "Now back to my betrayal. What did the Americans offer you? Money?" He looked down at the ground then looked up with a pleasurful smile, "Or was it to become one of them?"

I didn't give him any reaction. Drakeov smiled happily to himself. "You've caused me such agrivation Natalia. Now I have to pocess you're new, what did I hear it was, _husband?_ " He shook his head, "You really are broken aren't you Natalia? Marriage, over just trying to get away from me?"

"I'd do anything to get away from you," I said through my teeth.

"Will you be upset when I kill him?"

I wasn't sure if it was from lack of air or from the comment Drakeov had just made, but suddenly I felt light headed and weak. No. Clint couldn't die. I- I needed him.

"Please no," I whispered, "Please don't hurt him."

Drakeov cocked his head, "Interesting. Is this love Agent Romanov."

"Love is for children," I said, "I owe him a debt."

"Interesting. Thousands of lives in the balance, and you'll bargain for him?"

I stayed quiet. _Regimes fall everyday_ I thought to myself. "I've got red in ledger. I'd like to wipe it out."

"Can you wipe out that much red, Natalia? You're ledger is dripping with red. Its gushing red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change is the basis of sentimentality. This is a child's preyer. _Pathetic_. You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be seprate, to have your own code. Something that makes up for the horrors. But they are part of you. They will never go away. I won't touch Barton, not until I make him kill you, slowly, intimately in everyway I know you fear. And then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work, and when he screams, I'll split his _skull_!" Drakeov was shouting by the end, I could feel tears threatening to roll down my cheeks. " _This_ is my bargain you mueling quim."

I could feel the terror ripping through my veins at his words. "And just think," Drakeov said, "You're death will be no more trivial than you're brothers."

That was the tipping point. With what strength I had left from the lack of oxygen, I kick out at Barton, and he dropped me to the ground. He pulled a gun from his waistband and started shooting. The bullets got close, but never hit me. I realized he was off balance. He wasn't used to a gun. It actually make me laugh. I kicked low, he dodged. I punched up, he blocked it. Our fighting styles we similar. I grabbed his arm and twisted the gun falling to the ground. He punched, and I came to the side, the punched him. He tryed to kick me in the stomach and I kicked upwards, so his kick slid through my legs. I landed put he charged towards me, flinging me onto the ground. I groaned in pain, then knees him. His hold didn't break, so I pushed my one side, moving us over so I was on top. He kicked up and I flew off a little. I tumbled to the ground a few feet away, but got up fast. He walked towards me. I kicked then slammed grabbed his hand that came punching at me. I held that hand, then kicked up in the head. He fell to the ground. He shook his head. He looked up at me. "Natasha?" he whispered. Then he touched a finger to his ear, realizing his hearing aids were gone. Then I punched him again. This time he was knocked on concious.

"Well done Natalia," Drakeov said, "We'll just wait for him to reboot."

I pulled a gun from my back. "Smert' moyego brata ne bylo trivial'nym," I said (A/N: this is Russian for My brother's death was not trivial). Then I ran up to him, put the gun against his forehead. Drakeov smiled.

"You think I'll go that easy?" he asked.

Then I pulled the trigger.


	22. Chapter 22

Natasha: I ran over to Clint. I shook him. "Clint, are you okay?" I said. I realized he still couldn't hear me. He turned over and looked at me. "What happened?" he asked. Then he touched his ear for a second time.

I signed to him, "Drakeov got to you."

"Am I okay?" he signed

I nodded.

Clint smiled. Then he signed, "Now we're even."

I shook my head. Then a look of pure worry crossed Clint's face.

"Bomb?" he signed.

"I'll need your help," I signed back.

"Let's go," Clint signed.

Clint: I hated when the world was silent. Even when I was little I always slept with my hearing aids in, even though the doctor had told me not, because the sounds around me would help me fall asleep. I couldn't help smiling at Natasha's knowledge of American Sign Language.

"Where are my hearing aids?" I asked Natasha.

She looked grim. Then she walked across the floor and put something in her hands, then showed me. My hearing aids were busted apart in her hand. I shook my head sadly. I signed to her, "I knew I should have gotten the implants."

She smiled to herself. "We have to go," she signed looking up. I followed her line of sight, and saw a set of guys running towards us. I jumped on my feet ignoring the pain from doing so, and started running. I grabbed her hand. We dashed out the door, but our path was met by more men. I saw Natasha mouthing something, I assumed to herself. I ran into a room, going. I found a window, and attempted to open it. It was glued shut, immovable. My eyes flicked back to Natasha, who signed, "Hurry." I assumed the men were a few footsteps from the room. I grabbed her, wrapping my arms around her, then, threw the two of us out the window. I positioned us to fall on the roof of the building next to us, then, postitioned myself below her. I fell on my back, and for a moment, couldn't breathe. "Come on we have to keep moving," Natasha signed panicked. She grabbed my arm, pulling me up and we took off again. We ran from roof to roof, men chasing us from ever angle. I felt a bullet fly past my back, so close it made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

"Follow me," Natasha signed over her shoulder. Then she jumped off the edge of th roof. I looked over the edge cautiously, and found a tight awning to break my fall. I thought a quick prayer to myself, then jumped. I landed on my feet next to her. She started looking up at windows. I decided not to question why. Then she ran into a door. I followed, confused. She ran into a room, and then stopped. She bent over and picked something up. She turned and handed it to me. My bow. I had barely even noticed its absence, but I knew it would make the world of a difference.

"You may want this,"she signed. I took it, then grabbed the quiver from the ground next to her. I slung both over my shoulder.

"Let's go," I signed frantically. She followed in an instant.

Until she stopped dead in her tracks. "What?" I signed.

She shook her head, "Be careful. They just signaled all KGB agents of what I did," she signed. I gave her a questioning look.

She smiled to herself, then signed, "Drakeov is dead."

Just then a bomb exploded from under a taxi by us. It flew back, and nearly hit each of us. I was blew back from the black, landing funny on my leg.

Natasha: I looked around us for where the bomb, or more likely granade, had come from. I saw Wint, standing on top of a building. He had a rifle now, and was aimed at Clint, who was struggling to get up after a wierd fall. For being Fury's best guy, he really was a hastle. I positioned my stance in front of Clint. "If you're going to hit him," I yelled up, "You have to go through me."

Wint moved his shot the tiniest bit to the left. I knelt down, and made my entire body shield Clint. I looked Wint dead in the eyes. His eyes revealed nothing on whether or not he would take the shot. Then he turned, lowering his gun.

When I looked up again, there were KGB all around us. Clint positioned himself behind the taxi, and started shooting taking down KGB after KGB. I started shooting behind us before I started to shoot some of the people next to Clint. We started shooting together.

Then, in the distance, I saw people appearing. Not KGB. Fury lead the pack. Then they started shooting KGB too. "Barton," Fury said, "Seems like a bigger mess than normal."

Clint tapped his ear and made a slashing sign across his throat.

"I told you to get the implants," Fury signed.

"I'm going to take the government building," I told Fury, "There's a bomb about to blow, that is if I don't stop it."

"Take Barton with," Fury said, "We'll take the ground here."

I grabbed Barton's hand, and pulled him with me.

We ran together, shooting at people in different directions. I gave him signals for those things he couldn't hear. We made it up to the Politcal Building.

The doors were guarded by some pretty good agents. We shot in throught the glass to get in, and one guy approached too close. I elbowed him, then kneed to the crotch. Finally I punched high, and he fell back. I took his gun and started shooting the men at the doors. We started towards the stairs, where I knew the bomb would be on the second floor. I kicked the door in to find a man waiting for us. I pulled the trigger just as a arrow came flying past my ear. I turned to looked at Clint. "I got him first," he signed. Then he darted past me, pulling the bloody arrow from the agents chest, then we kept going.

We made it up to the room with the bomb. It had been armed only 5 seconds before hand. We could be too late. "Go," I signed to Clint, "I'll handle this. Go back and help Fury."

Clint shook his head. "Go!" I signed. He shook his head again. I didn't have time to fight with him on this. I started looking at the bomb. 18 seconds. I looked through the different wires sticking off of it. I had to think for what Drakeov would do. 16 seconds. Red wouldn't be it. Drakeov believe Red stood for blood, or for Russia. He would make that the one you'd think to cut, but would make it blow in an instant. 15 seconds. Blue was for knowledge. As in the knowledge it would take not ccut that wire. 14 seconds. Two couples of wires were twisted together. One green and yellow, one red and blue again. I could rule out red and blue. 10 seconds. It was between green and yellow. It would be one of the two. Not both. A gun shot rang out from behind me, and I heard a person fall. I looked back just long enough to see there was a man with an arrow in his chest laying on the floor. 8 seconds. Yellow. Green. Yellow. Green. Which one. Green was go a tactic most American's learned to disarm bombs. Yellow it was. Or was it reverse phycology. He wanted me to cut yellow. No. It was yellow. 5 seconds. 50/50 chance right. 4 seconds. "Please Lord let this be right," I whispered. 3 seconds.

Snip.


	23. Chapter 23

Natasha: After a moment I let one eye open. The timer had stopped at 3 seconds. I laughed to myself. I got up and hugged Clint, laughing. He smiled. "Nice job," he signed when we parted. Then we were raided. The last 15 KGB agents knocked down the door. "You have no idea how excited I am to do this to Drakeov's Daughter," Zaroff said, with a smiled.

I smiled, then kissed Clint, signing to him that'd I catch up with him later. "Shoot these idiots," I signed. He smiled and we got to business.

I kicked up at one of the younger agents, and when his gun flew from his hand I caught it and shot him. I kicked the agent that tried to take me next. He caught my leg and tried to flip me, but I simply put my other foots up and twisted myself to kick him in the back, then punched him down. I kicked low on a different agent, then got on top of him and electrocted him. Then I ran towards the door. I heard Zaroff call out, "You take the American, I'll go after Black Widow."

I ran as fast as I could, then went into another room. I tipped over a bookshelf behind me. I ran and I hid behind a different bookshelf.

Zaroff entered the library. His eyes darted around. "Never thought it would end with me hunting you did you little Natalia?"

I stayed perfectly silent, and looked through the books to see if I could see him. He glanced around, smiling at the idea of my demise.

"Finally the best hunter becomes the hunted," Zaroff said, "Natalia, did you know I was up for top spy _before_ you?"

He was getting closer, and I rolled away. I pushed over a different bookshelf on my way, then moved quickly the other direction. He went towards the bookshelf.

"Trying to set traps for me?" Zaroff asked. I started watched carefully, and started stacking some stuff in a pile behind some curtains.

Once that trap was set I moved away quickly. I climbed up a shelf, silently, then held myself up in the bars of the cieling. My muscles ached from holding myself there. Zaroff got close to the curtains. "I would have thought you would have tried harder Natasha," he said.

"Time to end this hunt," I whispered. He smiled.

"Yes it is," he said, pulling the curtains aside. At the same moment I swung down, getting my legs around his neck and putting my Widow's Bite to his temples at full charge. He spasmed, then dropped to the ground. I rolled off him, pulling out my guns mid-roll, pointing them at Zaroff once I gained stability. He didn't move. I stood up and walked over to him. His eyes fluttered open. "Nice job Natalia. I applaud you."

"I am still a beast at bay," I said to him, putting the gun to his head, "Get ready Agent Zaroff."

"On guard," he said, raising his hands as if he were innocent. Then I put a bullet in his head.

I raced out of the room, swiftly met by 3 other agents. I kicked low and swept my foot below each of theirs, causing them to fall. I pulled the trigger three times, and they were all dead. Two more agents appeared and I took them down in a matter of seconds. I ran back to Clint. I watched as he shot an arrow into the last KGB agent. I counted the bodies around him. 9. I had taken down 6. That was every KGB agent.

"Clear?" he signed, panting.

Instead of signing back, I just walked up to him, wrapping my arms around him, tears streaming down my cheeks. Every KGB was dead. I was free. He just hugged me, kissing my head.


	24. Chapter 24

Natasha: Bodies littered the streets of Budapest. We walked towards the SHIELD agents. They all stared at us, amazement and relief in their eyes.

"You made it out?" Fury said.

"Sorry about Barton's hearing aids," I said.

Fury just looked at me. "Natasha, can I introduce you to a few of my other Agents?" I nodded, wiping my hair out of my eyes. My hand came back bloody. I quickly looked at my reflection in a window. Some of it was my blood. Some of it was not.

"Natasha Romanov, this is Agent Hill," he pointed to a woman with short, uniformly cut brown hair, "Agent Coulson," he pointed to a man with light brown hair and only the beginnings of age starting to show, "Agent May, call sign Calvary," he pointed to an oriental woman with a small, deivous grin on her face, "Agent Garret," he pointed to a man who had almost a fatherly appearance, "His student, Agent Ward," he pointed to a young dark haired kid, "Agent Morse, call sign Mockingbird," he pointed to a blonde woman with cat like green eyes, "and Agent Hand," he pointed to a woman with a stiff stance contradicted by red streaked hair.

"Nice to meet you all," I said, "My apologies for the circumstance."

"Russia's going to have to refil their ranks," Agent Coulson said, "I'm fine with it."

"We're sending people to the Red Room address you gave us as well. Shutting it down and setting them free for good," Fury said, "I'm going to fly out and help them in a few minutes here."

"Thank you," I said, "Tell you're men to be careful. These kids are still studying how to kill, but there's a lot of them, and as young as they may be, their good."

"Noted," Fury said.

"So is it true?" Agent Hill asked, "Drakeov is dead."

I nodded.

"Natasha, can I talk to you for a minute?" Fury asked.

I nodded and followed him a few feet away from the group.

"Natasha, I want to congratulate you," he said, "You did something I never expected. In laying down your own personal mission to save my man, you killed the only life you've known for 7 years, you did an incredible job in this mission, you earned my trust."

I stared at him blankly. What was he saying.

"I'll see you at work Monday, Agent Romanov," he said, "Along with your Strike Teammate, Agent Barton of course."

"Thank you sir," I said, smiling. I couldn't believe it. I was a US Agent!

Fury turned back and walked towards the other agents, "We've got an orphanage to shut down."

I walked up to Barton. "What did he have to say?" Barton signed.

I smiled, "I'm a US agent." I signed back. I kissed him on the cheek. Then I signed to him, "Thank you, Clint."

He smiled, "I'm glad I could help."

I looked behind me at the streets. Bodies littered the streets. A building burned. I heard sirens around us.

"Should we go to the US now? " Clint signed. I swallowed, then nodded. Everything was going to change.


	25. Chapter 25

Clint: We went back to my room, and I could see the shock on Natasha's face as we walked in. I went directly to my suitcase and pulled out a container the size of a breath mint box. I opened it to reveal two new hearing aids. I turned them on and put them in, sighing to test them. They worked okay, not as good as the ones Drakeov had crushed, but as good as any backups should.

"I always have backup," I told Natasha. She forced a smile and nodded. I walked over to her, and took her hand in mine. "I'm sorry that you had to go through that. I can't imagine how hard that was."

There was one thing bugging me. Why had I been in that room? Why did Natasha punch me that one time in the head? I didn't mean to dwell on it, but it did bug me. What had Drakeov done to me then?

I didn't want her to see my worry on the subject. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I have a slight ringing in my ear due to these stupid hearing aids, but otherwise, barely a scratch," I assured her.

She nodded, "I"m sorry, about, what happened in that room. I want you to know I don't blame you. Its my fault for making you come in contact with Drakeov-"

I stopped her, "First, I don't blame you, and second, what happened, back with Drakeov?"

Natasha looked at me confused, "You... don't remember?"

I shook my head. Then a notifactation went off on my phone, reminding me about the flight that we had to get on. I sighed.

"Let's talk on the flight. Do you have anything you have to grab in Russia?" I asked.

"Do I look like the kind of girl who would have a lot of stuff to grab?" she asked. I laughed.

"Depends on who you're playing," I told her.

Two hours later the plane left the run way. "So what are you looking forward to most about the US?" I asked Natasha, trying to get her mind off what had happened.

"Freedom," she said, absent mindedly, her eyes trained on the plane wing outside our window.

"That seems to be the draw," I told her, laughing a little. She stayed quiet, watching out the window.

A few hours later the plane was dark, the lighting dimmed for better sleeping conditions. Almost everyone was asleep, drapped in a thin felt blanket. Natasha was draped in a blanket, but her eyes were looking at me. "What?" I asked.

"Thank you," she whispered, "For your help in the field, for the opprotunity to change my life."

"You've already said thank you for both things," I murmured, "We make a pretty good team."

"Yeah," she said, "And I promise, I'll be out of your hair in just a few years. Until then, I won't cause any trouble."

"Why do you keep saying that?" I whispered, "I asked you, not the other way around. I promise you, I don't mind." Her eyes stayed on mine, registering what I said. "And besides," I said, "What if we don't want to part after two years?"

"What?" Natasha whispered.

"Well, I mean, I think we both like each other. Maybe we shouldn't act like this is some curse. Make the most of it," I said.

"Barton, I-" she stopped, smiling after a moment, "I guess there's no danger anymore to putting you through dating me."

"Nope," I said, smiling, "I mean, other than dating you."

"Ha ha," Natasha whispered sarcasitcally.

"Can I ask you a question though?" I asked.

"Sure," she whispered.

"What happened, with Drakeov?" I asked.

Natasha shook her head, "Maybe its best, if you don't know."

"Please?" I asked, "Just a small favor in return for all of my amazing services."

I was joking, but Natasha sighed, "Fine. Drakeov took you and made you one of his minons. He used this new tech, to control your mind with his. You tried to kill me."

"Oh," I said, trying to make that sink in. I felt nothing towards the event, probably due to my lack of memory of it. Just bad I had tried to kill Natasha. "I'm sorry."

"You weren't in controll. You were nothing I couldn't handle," Natasha said, shrugging. She watched me carefully.

"I'm alright," I said, "I can see why you were so freaked out though. I guess I was just saved by the abiity to not remember."

"You really don't remember anything do you?" Natasha whispered.

I shook my head. "So how did you get me back?" I asked.

Natasha smirked to herself. "Cognitave recalibration," she explained, "I hit you really hard in the head."

I smiled to myself, then at her, "Well, thank you."

"Like I said, you weren't anything I couldn't handle," she said. Then she giggled a little to herself.

"What?" I asked.

"You're really terrible with a gun," she said. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, well I'd like to see you with a bow and arrow," I whispered.

She raised her hands in defeat.

We landed in DC, and we were picked up by a SHIELD vehincle. Natasha stared out the window, her eyes scanning every detail.

"Have you ever been in the US?" I asked her, realizing I didn't know.

"Only on assignment," she admitted. She didn't even look at me to say it.

"Your residence, I'm assuming, Agent Barton," the intern said.

"Yep," I said.

Natasha: We drove past monuments, military bases I had only read about in my KGB files. We kept driving long past the metropolis of Washington DC. Before I knew it we were driving through the country side. It was pretty. Trees with billows of green leaves towared above us. Clint rolled down the window. "I always miss this when I'm gone," he said, inhaling the scent of the leaves. I followed suit, the smell intoxicating. A moment later the trees disapeared, and there was a bare field. We drove up a dirt driveway, and I looked at the house ahead, a small, farm house.

"You're kidding," I said, smiling, "You live on a farm?"

"It was my parents, before they past away. They left it me and my brother. I'm the only one who was ever there. My brother eventually just told me it could be mine," he explained, "I also have an apartment in New York, an apartment in Paris, a condo in LA, and an apartment in London."

"Wow," I said, "I have a KGB issued dorm room. Or at least I did." That statement helped me realize just how different everything was going to be now.

We got out of the car. "Thanks Jordan," Clint said when we got out. The driver nodded, then pulled out. "Jordan is the only one who knows about this place," Clint said, "Well him and Fury. It also acts as a safe home if nessassary."

He pulled keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He opened the door for me. It was a bit of a mess, but not bad for a single guy. "Sorry about the mess," he said, "I'll get a room cleaned out for you by tomorrow."

"Thanks," I said, "This isn't bad." I examined the room around me, observing the light tan walls, old leather sofa that was well worn out, a little archway leading to a kitchen, which was stocked black appliances and light cabnets.

"Uh, this is the living room," Clint said, then pointed to the kitchen, "That's the kitchen. Eat whatever's not moldy or expired." He walked down the hallway ahead, "Uh, my room's at the end of the hall," he said, "Bathroom to the right. You'll probably take this room here," he opened a door next to the bathroom, "It was my brothers growing up. Now its just kind of a guest room, you know if I ever had guests stay the night. But feel free to do what you want with it." Then he turned, "Or there's my old room at the other end of the hall," he pointed to it, "But now I can show you downstairs."

We went downstairs and he showed me a big log cabin style room. "There's a TV, Xbox, Playstation." I was intrigued by a few pictures on the walls. One I recognized as Clint and an older boy with similar appearances, both of them holding up grotescly bloody fish. Another was of the same two boys, the older one hanging on the trees branches with a bow and arrow pointed at the camera, Clint was up high in the tree, his bow and arrow also pointed at the camera.

"Cute," I said, pointing to it.

"Thats how we came up with our code names. He would always go for the shot that was upside down, or with his toes. I could do long distances best, or from up high. Our parents started calling us Hawkeye and Trickshot," Clint laughed at the fond memory. Then he shook his head, "You're gonna love this. Follow me."

I followed him to the otherside of the large room, and he opened a door. Inside there was one wall, covered in different bows, below 15 different quivers that were all marked with a symbol, each quiver holding close to 50 arrows. Against another wall there were five dummies, the ones that look like an angry muscular man, like the ones you practice martial arts on. They all had holes through their heads and hearts. "You can take this wall," he pointed to the wall the door was on, "Whatever you have, weapons wise. Just dont touch the quivers. They all do some pretty wicked stuff."

"Sweet," I said.

That night, I decided to walk out in the field. There were remenance of old corn stocks. I sat down on the ground, then laughed, laying back on the dewing ground. I was free!


End file.
